


Dinner for Two

by barghest



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Food Kink, Foreplay, M/M, Trans Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 08:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barghest/pseuds/barghest
Summary: inspired by a lovely friend on twitter + paul nakauchi's 18+ panel on hanzo at sacanime recently. :vhanzo invites jesse over for dinner. it's a date - but not like any date jesse's had before.





	Dinner for Two

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to a good friend who having the conversation with me after The News about what a nasty nasty kinky old man hanzo is, and how he'd totally perform this on mccree. they know who they are (i wont tag them in case theyre ashamed!).  
> a guide to some of the words are at the bottom. if i have used them incorrectly, please let me know! cheers. funny how all i can write these days with any pleasure is (almost) porn. v:

“So, dinner in my room tonight at seven, then?”

“It’s a date.”

_It’s a date_ , the words had left Jesse’s mouth before he registered what he was saying and Hanzo had arched a brow, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he had left the practice arena. He would have cursed himself for such forwardness if he hadn’t received a confirmation text half an hour later, requesting he bring a dessert of some kind - and that was that. No backing out now.

The town nearest the Gibraltar base was big enough to contain a dedicated wine shop and a store entirely dedicated to ties, both of which he pillaged in the early afternoon, desperate to not look as messy as usual when he finally made his way to Hanzo’s door. He wasted another hour or so in front of the mirror comparing them (was the black and blue too formal? The cacti print too tacky? The dragon cramping Hanzo’s style too much?) before he remembered the damned dessert. A quick check of opening times confirmed he’d miss the bakery even if he have Satya, the new recruit from Vishkar, set up a teleporter directly to the shop’s door. Now was a perfectly reasonable time to curse himself.

Too quick does seven o’clock come around, and Jesse finds himself stood before Hanzo’s door, a bottle of red wine with a fancy label in hand, all ties ditched in favour of an open collar shirt, hair pushed back into the tiniest ponytail. Already curls have escaped and bounced over his forehead, tickled at his ears, and Jesse quietly wonders if he still had time to flee in shame.

“Ah, Jesse,” too late, for Hanzo opened his door to greet him - damp hair loose over his shoulders, a dark blue shirt unbuttoned on his chest, revealing a curl of dark hair up his abdomen, the glint of jewellery on his right pec, oh, Jesse really should not be staring like this - and beckon him inside. “I apologize for my appearance, I’m running behind a little. Make yourself comfortable,” he gestures to a small table, already set for two. Jesse bobs his head in greeting, hat in his hands already.

Hanzo slides in opposite him a minute later, neatened up, “thank you for waiting.”

“Pleasure,” he can’t help a little smile, before setting his offering on the table. “Hey, I brought wine, I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I’m hopin’ this is okay.”

“I was going to offer you sake first,” Hanzo gestures to the tokkuri on the table with them, two small cups already set up, “but the choice is up to you.”

Jesse hums quietly, “how about a little bit of both?”

Hanzo’s smile ignites a warmth in his chest, “I like the sound of that.”

They indulge themselves with wine and dumplings, Jesse easing up in his seat enough to lean forward as they talk. Hanzo is liberal with his koshu, quick to fill Jesse’s cup again when it reaches half empty. It’s easier to chat, when it’s just the two of them, rough hands topping up each other’s glasses and bumping against one another as they share out appetizers (gyoza, salad, tofu, all perfectly arranged in small bowls between them). Jesse maneuvers chopsticks with relative ease, swiping perfectly steamed rice into his mouth, until he catches Hanzo’s watchful eye.

“Mhm?,” he pauses, mouth full of aforementioned rice.

Hanzo picks up a napkin and reaches across, delicately capturing a few errant grains on Jesse’s chin, “a little messy, aren’t we.” He barely breathes the words, eyes half lidded as the rice makes its way onto his finger tip and into his mouth, the barest smudge of a tint on his lips - and Jesse suddenly realises he’s staring. It’s an effort to make himself chew and swallow.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he manages, with some effort, retrieving his own napkin. Hanzo merely smiles, something predatory glinting in his eyes, and Jesse has to squeeze his thighs together as heat coils in his abdomen.

“You’re welcome,” Hanzo has emptied his bowl already, having practically picked it clean. He sips his wine, apparently sufficiently pleased by Jesse’s taste in grape juice, “are you ready for the main course?”

Jesse glances at his own pbowl, “I...don’t know if I’m gonna have much room, if I’m honest. Might’ve overstuffed myself for the moment.” Hanzo had served up enough food for a small family, and Jesse’s stomach had growled a little too urgently for him to think about a second course.

“Not a problem,” again with that small smile, the tiniest hint of teeth flashing between Hanzo’s lips. Jesse wonders idly if the draconic features extended past the archer’s extensive inkwork. “I am happy to indulge alone in the next course, but perhaps you can help me with it anyway?” Past the haze of good sake and reasonably priced wine, Jesse gets the distinct feeling that this entails more than setting the table - but he nods anyway.

“Sure thing.” A soft nickname - darling, sugar, honey - hovers on his lips but he manages to hold back on that much for now.

Hanzo rises from his seat to stack the bowls, somehow still as light and well balanced on his feet as if he were still sober, “good. I am going to need your body, then, Jesse.”

Jesse blinks, “I’m sorry.”

“Your body,” Hanzo does not snap, much as Jesse can tell he would if it was anyone else. “Would you strip for me? I’m here to assist if you need.”

“Uh,” he should be questioning this. He could be questioning this, but instead he’s already unbuttoning his shirt as Hanzo clears the table and tops up their ochoko one last time, “sure.” The shirt is discarded on the back of the chair as he toes his boots off, and his hands settle on his belt, “quick question, can I keep my underwear on?”

“If you like,” the look Hanzo fixes him with is quite possibly devilish.

Jesse shimmies slowly out of his jeans, folding them over the back of his chair, and pulls off his socks - the air of the room is warm on his skin, the window closed and the lights already dim around them. Not hot enough to make him sweat really, but removing a layer sure makes a world of a difference. Now he just has to hover by the table and sip his sake, unsure where to stand, feeling most naked due to no packer in his boxers.

Thinking of those looks Hanzo keeps giving him - maybe he should have worn black ones too.

Too late now, as Hanzo turns to give him a look over, eyes lingering dangerously low on his body before they rise to his face again, “for this, I am going to need you horizontal.”

Jesse can’t help a splutter, “what?”

“Horizontal, on my bed.”

“On you--on your bed?” Hanzo has to be, to put it politely, shitting him.

“Yes,” there’s that smile again, accompanied by a soft chuckle. Is he being made fun of? Is this some kind of joke? Is Genji going to spring out of the ceiling with a camera if he follows through? Unlikely - given Genji’s inability to be in a room with Hanzo without slapping or punching his arm at least once - but sweat drips down Jesse’s neck all the same. “On your back, if you will please. I’m going to need you to be quite still, if you can.” He gestures to the neatly made bed before flicking a small fan on. It’s a blessing when Jesse sinks into the mattress, arms tight in to his side.

“Relax,” Hanzo murmurs, suddenly soft, “I am not going to hurt you.” _Unless you are into that_ , seems to follow in the silent inhale he takes as he seats himself beside the bed, but maybe Jesse is imagining things. Hanzo bends forward to brush a damp curl from Jesse’s forehead and Jesse tries to relax beneath his touch, to draw attention away from the small wet patch between his legs.

“Then what are you gonna do?,” he manages with a smile, as Hanzo turns away again. “Seems a strange way to eat a meal, like this.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” Hanzo brings something round onto his lap, but it’s just out of Jesse’s line of sight. “I thought we could have a little history lesson tonight, as well as enjoy ourselves. Are you comfortable?”

“As I’ll ever be.” The fan has been tilted to give him a pleasant breeze. It’s sufficiently cooling - if, embarrassingly, coaxing his nipples into small peaks already. Hanzo seems not to have noticed, or doesn’t mind.

“Good enough,” Hanzo tilts his head to one side, and Jesse can’t help but stare at the gold piercing in one ear. “Have you heard of _nyotaimori_?”

He shrugs, but only the smallest amount, “can’t say I have. Sounds food related.”

“It is,” Hanzo rewards him with a smile. “The masculine of it is _nantaimori._ It’s more commonly referred to as body sushi, but that’s a rather vulgar translation. I’m sure it gives you some kind of an idea of what’s to come.”

Jesse’s mouth opens before he has a chance to stop it, “you’re gonna eat me?”

Hanzo chuckles again, a laugh that rumbles deep in his chest (and equally deep in Jesse’s underpants), “not quite. I am going to eat off you.” He lifts a piece of sushi in to view with chopsticks, before delicately balancing it between Jesse’s collarbones, “this is a rare post-victory celebration, said to originate from the Edo Period, where the samurai were the highest ranking social class. Whilst the original details are mostly lost to the ravages of time, it remains an occasional treat amongst certain social groups in Japan and has found fame across the world, particularly the Americas.” Another piece of sushi arrives, and another, until he has drawn a small line over the curve of Jesse’s torso.

“Traditionally, you, the model, would not talk or move,” Hanzo picks up a salmon roll, reaching across to Jesse’s right nipple, where it balances precariously, “and I would not talk to you. Sushi would be served on leaves placed on your body, and I would only remove them to eat with chopsticks. Whilst I ask you don’t move until I have finished eating, I would still love for you to talk.”

“I’m gettin’ the feeling you won’t be using chopsticks, will you?,” he doesn’t really need to ask, as Hanzo balances sushi on his other - treacherously erect - nipple, but talking feels good.

“No,” Hanzo sets one just on the waistband on Jesse’s underwear. “I will be going with my mouth, because I can freely admit that I am drunk and have no intention of using anything else.”

Jesse thinks for a second, and then nods as best he can without shifting any of the sushi. At least he’s honest.

History lesson seemingly over, Hanzo sets what must be a plate on his lap aside, shuffling forward in his seat, “before I begin, I feel like I should make you a little more comfortable, whilst ensuring I don’t make a mess of myself. Don’t you think?,” but his hands are already on the buttons of his shirt, sinking down his chest at a frightening pace that has Jesse transfixed. Hanzo peels the shirt off and the small flash of metal Jesse saw earlier is on full view as he ends up staring a little too hard at the bar through Hanzo’s right nipple. He swallows a little harder than he intended.

Hanzo’s last trick is to loose his hair, discarding the ribbon to let it brush his shoulders again, “how is that?”

“Uh,” it takes a supreme effort, but he looks Hanzo in the eye, “very good.”

“Excellent, then let us begin. I’m still quite ravenous.” Oh, he has no doubt about that - as Hanzo dips down to take one of the sushi from the centre of Jesse’s chest, lips brushing Jesse’s skin. He straightens to chew and swallow, a finger gliding over that bottom lip to catch any stray grains. “I picked out a selection of flavours for tonight,” the same finger lowers to trace a circle around another piece of sushi, lower on Jesse’s body, “before I rolled them myself before you arrived. Another reason why I was running late, I apologize again.”

“S’all good,” Jesse breathes as Hanzo bends over again, teeth grazing featherlight over his skin as Hanzo picks up the next morsel of sushi. He can feel the heat building between his thighs, no matter how much he tries to ignore it in the hopes it will go away. A combination of good alcohol and good company has made his horribly weak to having butterfly kisses pressed to his body, even if those kisses are only ways for Hanzo to peck food off of him.

“That’s wonderful. I’m so glad you chose to join me tonight, Jesse,” the way he hisses Jesse’s name stirs Jesse even more, and he tries to squeeze his thighs together again, try to conceal himself a little - try to work out how the fuck he ended up here, practically naked under Hanzo’s gaze. (And yet, he couldn’t in the slightest bit complain.)

“You make the meal all the more decadent,” it’s deliberate, the way he lingers over Jesse’s collarbones, lips against Jesse’s skin even after he’s swallowed - the sultry look in his eyes as he rises slow, meeting Jesse’s gaze. It’s practically sinful. Jesse loves it.

“I haven’t partaken in the practice for quite some time,” Hanzo wipes his lips with his fingers again, tongue gliding over his fingertips to clean them, eyes never leaving Jesse’s body. “And I’ve never had such a lovely model all to myself. I feel quite spoiled.”

“My pleasure,” Jesse smiles, and suddenly tenses his chest, realising where Hanzo is going next - just as Hanzo’s lips brush his nipple, the smallest inhale against them sending tingles up his spine. He has to hold his breath for that moment, only relaxing again when Hanzo has straightened up. It gives him a chance to get a good view of Hanzo’s body again, littered with scars that just accentuate his features, the curves of his chest and the muscles tensing in his abdomen. Maybe later he can ask to do this again, with Hanzo serving as the model for him.

“Oh, oops,” that did not sound like a particularly apologetic noise, and Hanzo follows it by dipping down to the same nipple, “I missed some rice.” Jesse has no time to check before Hanzo’s lips are around his bare nipple, sucking it into his mouth, the wet tip of his tongue dancing over its sensitive surface. He can’t help himself as a soft moan escapes his lips, arching slightly up into Hanzo’s mouth as Hanzo sucks on him for a moment that seems to last hours, tongue circling the peak of his nipple - before Hanzo pulls away again, a small smirk on his lips. “Excuse my messiness tonight, Jesse,” he strokes Jesse’s arm, and it takes a lot of energy for Jesse to not beg his mouth come back.

“Hey, no problem,” Jesse tries to steady his breathing, as Hanzo dips to his other nipple - why Hanzo has to lean a hand on the bare side of his chest is beyond him, but he can’t seem to bring himself to mind the thumb brushing over his nipple. Hanzo cleans off the other piece of sushi without incident beyond a wet kiss to Jesse’s skin.

And now only one piece of sushi remains - salmon nigiri, balanced precariously on Jesse’s waistband. Well, it was balanced there, only to have slid down to rest on the very front of his boxers. Hanzo glances at it with what can only be described as a famished expression.

“Do you mind if I move positions to eat this one?,” he’s already on his feet before Jesse can nod vigorously, climbing on to the bed to straddle Jesse’s lower legs. “Do you think, hmm,” he tilts his head again, thoughtful, “do you think you could part your legs for me to sit in between?”

Jesse can’t nod fast enough, a fire well and truly kindled inside him that he can’t entirely blame on alcohol.

He shifts for Hanzo to sit neatly in between, kneeling on the mattress, “you spoil me, Jesse.” And then Hanzo bends down, tantalizingly slow, until his mouth covers the last piece of sushi - and lord, does Jesse give in to the incredibly horny image in his mind and wish he had taken his underwear off as well. His lips press against the thin fabric of Jesse’s boxers, firmly enough for Jesse to feel Hanzo lean into him, tongue pulling the sushi into his mouth. On the way up, his teeth almost catch on the fabric, and Jesse exhales hard, eyes glued to Hanzo bending over him.

Hanzo stays low for longer than necessary, nosing away for crumbs until Jesse’s hips shift up to meet him on their own, and only then does he slowly straighten up.

“You know,” he lays a hand on Jesse’s thigh, “even after all that, I am still hungry. How about dessert?”

Jesse’s heart drops as he remembers his idiocy from earlier, cutting through the fog of alcohol like one of Hanzo’s arrows, “I. I forgot to get us anything. Shit, I’m sorry.”

Hanzo just smiles, that same predatory smile that Jesse just wants to dive straight into, “oh, that’s okay.” His fingers drift forward in languid patterns on Jesse’s skin, grazing over his boxers to tug at the waistband, “you’ve brought me another dessert right here.”

Jesse can safely say that, in all his long years, he has never removed underwear faster.

**Author's Note:**

> tokkuri - the traditional bottle sake comes in  
> koshu - aged sake, its stronger than fresh sake  
> ochoko - cylindrical sake cup  
> salmon nigiri - that kind of sushi where its just a block of rice with a piece of raw salmon top. this is a very inelegant way of explaining that  
> nyotaimori - the art of displaying sushi on a (mostly or fully) naked woman's body. nantaimori is the male equivalent
> 
> please note that my research( which probably wasnt especially indepth since i wrote most of this at 5 in the morning instead of shleeping) indicated that the practice of nyotaimori originated in 'the samurai period', which lead me to say here the edo period, as that was when the samurai were at the height of their power - as stated by hanzo, they were the top of the social caste system. the edo period lasted from 1603 to 1868.
> 
> if i have used any word incorrectly or have these facts wrong, i welcome corrections very much so!! particularly as a white author. otherwise, uh, enjoy.
> 
> thank you based father paul nakauchi with blessing us with this titbit:  
>  _Someone: Paul what would be Hanzo’s ideal date?  
>  Paul: Well first it would start with hot sake and then sushi… California rolls, and then for dessert Green Tea ice cream but you have to lick it off before it melts because someone is the sushi table you know like they have in Japan? But it’s gonna take a long time._
> 
> taken from a tumblr post by katzcratch. sorry i did not do the icecream, paul


End file.
